The fighter still remains
by BexM
Summary: When Emilie and Thomas are snatched off the streets of Paris along with other women and children, the king's best four race against time to rescue them before they succumb to the horrors of the slave trade. Their plan giving their youngest his toughest and most personal mission yet! (Slight follow from 'put your trust beyond the skies' )
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N HAPPY NEW YEAR! I am back! Well this took longer then expected to get going due to real life getting in the way and admittedly writers block. But with Fab Four back on our screens in a new series inspiration has hit me in abundance and thus this is the result. I hope that you wonderful people who have supported me with my other three follow me on this final ride to tie up this mini series of stories I have written. So without further ado here is the first chapter...it will pick up I promise. Enjoy and please let me know what you think you know how much I love your comments! **_

Chapter 1

The summer was well and truly upon the streets of Paris as Emilie made her way through, smiling warmly at familiar faces and stopping to talk to a few as she headed towards the home of her friend. Reaching the door she noted it open and stood for a few moments enjoying the laughter that rang through the house. The laughter of a happy 4 year old. Smiling, she stepped in, calling out to both father and son.

"Thomas? Aramis? It's only me," she said, removing her cloak and heading towards the sound of voices, finding the pair in the garden enjoying the sunshine. Both were laying on their fronts with a book open. Thomas was concentrating on his words with Aramis jokingly helping him causing Thomas to giggle, swatting his father playfully on the arm.

"Stop papa! I have to get good!" Thomas chastised him. Aramis just grinned, dropping a gentle kiss on his head.

"Sorry little one. I shall behave myself now," Aramis promised as he looked up, feeling eyes on them then smiling warmly at his friend in front of him.

"Emilie! Forgive me I didn't hear you come out. How are you?" Aramis greeted her getting to his feet and walking to her before hugging her tightly. "I am well thank you. How are you?" she replied, sweeping a quick glance over the musketeer. Aramis sighed, fixing eyes on his son. "Thomas, Emilie and I will just be inside okay? You stay out here keep practising your words," Aramis told the boy. Thomas nodded flashing a toothy smile and waving at Emilie before returning to his book.

"He is a smart kid Aramis. You must be so proud of him?" she asked, following him into the kitchen and watching as he poured them both a drink before positioning himself so that he could keep an eye on his son. "I am every day. I am very lucky," he responded, flashing her a smile. Emilie returned it, again taking in the man in front of her.

It had been near on 4 months since Aramis started his long road to recovery after all that had happened to him. Physically his body was almost there but his mind was still weak and they all knew this. As did Aramis and it was this reason alone that someone always saw him each day. To keep his spirits up, to keep the light there if he even dared to fall back into darkness. Today though he looked…tired. Emilie frowned, placing a hand gently to his forehead thus causing him to pull away with a confused look toward her.

"I am sorry Aramis. You look tired. I just wanted to make sure you weren't sick," she apologised. Aramis sighed, taking her hand and kissing it gently before letting it go and finally dropping into a chair, running a hand over his face. Emilie took a seat next to him.

"I won't lie. I am tired, Emilie. Sleep is never easy for me and it seems to be even harder the last week…since…since Thomas finally moved back into his own bed. And tomorrow is the anniversary of when Marie and I were married. I don't think I am ready to face this without her. It would have been 6 years," he admitted, brown eyes meeting her own as his hands clasped round the ring that belonged to his wife, hanging on a chain close to his heart. Emilie sighed, wrapping an arm round his shoulders.

"Aramis I am so sorry. We are here okay. Don't do this alone," Emilie soothed, seeing the pain held in sad brown orbs "Why don't you go and get some rest?" she suggested. "I will get Thomas to help me make dinner. The others are coming over when they are finished." Aramis held her gaze for a moment longer before dropping his eyes and nodding. "Thank you," he responded, his tone full of gratitude to the young girl. She leaned in, planting a gentle kiss to his cheek. "You have nothing to thank me for. It's why we are here Aramis. You don't have to face anything on your own!" she told him firmly. The musketeer nodded silently.

"Go get some sleep. I will go find the little one." Emilie said pulling him up and pushing him to his room, watching as he removed his boots and shirt before dropping down onto the bed and to her relief, he was asleep in seconds.

"Uncle Athos!" Thomas grinned jumping off the chair he was stood on where he had been helping Emilie make a broth. Athos grinned catching the little boy in his arms and hugging him tightly, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Hello trouble. Have you been behaving yourself?" he asked. His nephew giggled whilst he nodded. "Yes I have been helping Emilie make dinner" he answered before looking at Athos with bright blue eyes. "Papa isn't well he is in bed so I have to help," he added. Athos frowned, glancing at Emilie as he placed Thomas back down. She shook her head, smiling at Athos slightly.

"Don't worry too much. Aramis is just exhausted. He hasn't been sleeping well so I sent him for some rest. He's quite down Athos; tomorrow will be his and Marie's wedding anniversary. He is struggling with accepting it alone," Emilie explained, watching realisation dawn in her lover's eyes as he remembered the date. Athos nodded.

"For my own mind I may just go and check on him," Athos stated. Seeing the look on the girl's face he added "Don't worry I promise if he is settled, I won't wake him. The others will be here soon." He kissed her gently on the lips before heading for his friend's room.

Standing silently at the door, Athos watched his brother sleep. With his shirt off, the tell tail signs of recent events were still very much present on Aramis' body. The wounds although heeled had left scars that were visible against his skin and his frame, though naturally slight, was still thinner then Athos would have liked. No matter how much they had been feeding the younger musketeer up, Aramis' tendency to worry and the lapses he would occasionally have was stopping the weight staying on him. Sighing, Athos carefully took the thick cloak, once his sister's, the one the queen had had made for her, and placed it gently over Aramis. He watched his friend curl into it, responding to the warmth and beginning to relax, if only slightly. Athos reached out and ran a hand gently through his brother's curls sensing his dreams being plagued with horrors. He wondered if Aramis would ever find peace in his sleep.

"Rest Aramis. Marie and Thomas are safe." Athos soothed, smiling as he saw the man's body finally relax completely. Nodding to himself, he got up and left the room, closing the door behind him as he decided that Aramis was best left to sleep as long as he needed to.

"So come on then what is that you have been wanting to tell us?" D'Artagnan questioned Athos as the 6 of them sat themselves down for dinner later that evening. Aramis was yet to wake and none of the friends felt the need to disturb him.

Constance glanced at Emilie over the table and saw her blush slightly at D'Artagnan's question. She smiled turning back to preparing Thomas's dinner while the little boy chatted happily to Porthos. Athos looked at Emilie who just nodded, encouraging him to answer.

"I asked Emilie her hand in marriage," Athos finally replied, watching the faces of his two brothers. To his relief, they both held matching smiles. "Congratulations both of you! Though I can't say I am surprised," Constance said. "I cannot wait to plan another wedding!" she added with a grin. Emilie returned her smile, grateful for her support.

"Does Aramis know?" Porthos asked, taking a bite of food. Athos sighed shaking his head. "No not yet. We were planning on telling you all together," he replied. Porthos just nodded. "He will be happy for you both. You know that," D'Artagnan assured them just as Thomas jumped up from his chair "Papa!" he cried, flinging himself into Aramis' arms.

"Hey little one. I hope you have been behaving?" he asked, placing a gentle kiss to his son's forehead before putting him back down in his chair and taking a seat himself next to Thomas. "I have helped Emilie cook dinner," Thomas told him. "It's nice Papa. Taste it!" the little boy added enthusiastically, holding his little spoon up and making Aramis take a mouthful of the stew. "That is good buddy. I might just have to have some myself," he grinned at the child, who, in return, smiled happily at his father's praise then returning back to his own meal.

"How are you feeling?" Porthos asked, handing him a bowl. Aramis smiled a thank you as he took a spoonful of food. Though he was not feeling hungry, he did not want to worry his friends. "I am okay," he replied simply. Looking around the table, he frowned slightly. "What have I missed?" he questioned, placing the spoon back down, training expectant eyes on his friends. Athos shifted slightly wondering how his friend would take the news, especially with the heartache the following day would bring. "Athos?" Aramis prompted.

"I have asked Emilie to marry me and she agreed," Athos told him, watching him drop his gaze as he nodded slowly. "But of course she agreed," Aramis responded. Returning soft brown eyes onto his brother, he smiled a little. "I am so happy for you both. You, of all of us, brother, deserve the happiness love brings. You have my blessing and my prayers for a happy marriage." Aramis said sincerely though Athos felt his heart clench at the hint of sadness to Aramis's words.

"Thank you, Aramis. Your blessing means so much to us," Emilie finally spoke up, causing the hurting man to look to her. Aramis nodded. "It would be what Marie would want. She will be looking down on you both with extreme happiness." Emilie swallowed heavily at the words just spoken. "Aramis…" But she was stopped by him shaking his head and getting to his feet.

"I am not hungry tonight. If you will excuse me. I am tired. I think I will just head back to bed," he muttered, leaning down to place a kiss upon his son's head. "You be a good boy Thomas and go to sleep when you are told okay? Papa loves you," Aramis told him. Thomas looked at his father sadly. "Are you not putting me to sleep Papa?" he asked, his eyes locked on his father. Aramis shook his head. "I am not feeling too well tonight little one. I will see you in the morning." Thomas nodded. His understanding of his father's suffering was incredible for a four year old and it still surprised the others of his acceptance to it all. But the bond…the love held between father and son ran so deep and strong that it anchored that acceptance. "I love you papa." Thomas whispered as he hugged Aramis tightly before kissing his father on the cheek. Aramis smiled hugging him again. Letting him go he glanced his friends.

"Good night." He said quietly as he left the room. Athos sighed deeply as he felt Emilie squeeze his hand gently. "He doesn't begrudge you Athos. It's all still so raw for him. He will be okay. Just give him a bit of time to let it sink in." Constance told him gently. The older musketeer just nodded deciding he would stay the night, ready to support Aramis when the dawn broke.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N oh wow I did not expect so many wonderful reviews so quick! Thank you so much. This chapter mainly touches on the compassionate friendship of the Queen and Aramis. That will run through the story. I like the thought of them as friends not lovers. Anyway enjoy and thank you all again**_

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

Aramis sat silently against the tree, his eyes fixed on the white stone in front of him: the stone that marked where his heart lay. Running a hand over tired eyes, he rested his head back against the tree, sighing deeply as he did so.

"You know my darling, I can still see our wedding day so clearly in my mind. How you looked so beautiful, enchanting and perfect. The way I can still feel your touch when your hand was placed into mine. The way you smiled as you turned to me and we spoke our vows…" He trailed off, words catching in his throat as he closed his eyes, allowing his mind to play out that day 6 years ago. He felt his heart clench painfully as that dull ache that was always there heightened, triggering off a wave of tears. Opening brown eyes, Aramis focused them back on the stone in front of him. Crawling over to it he placed a hand to it, the cold feeling of death edging its way to his very soul.

"I miss you so much Marie. Everyday. I would give my life to have you back in my world. To have you by my side. My heart belongs only to you my darling angel. I love you always," he whispered, pulling his knees close to his chest and dropping his head in folded arms, allowing his tears of pain and grief fall freely.

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><p>Anne stood watching the man in front of her for a while. She had chosen to take a walk to visit her friend. She had been slightly surprised to find Aramis leaning against the tree opposite the grave, eyes closed as he dozed in the sun's heat. Not wanting to disturb the peaceful scene, she had yet to go to the young musketeer but a sense of worry crept over her and the need to check he was well took over. Aproaching him slowly, she stopped before him, blocking the sun's beating rays.<p>

"Aramis?" she called to him gently, causing him to stir. Sleepy brown eyes gazed up at her. He blinked a few times before making to get to his feet when realising who it was. Anne shook her head, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder and stopping him.

"Don't get up Aramis. May I instead join you?" she asked him. Sinking back down, he nodded in reply. "Of course your majesty, Forgive me. I didn't mean to fall asleep," he said sheepishly. Anne smiled softly at him.

"There is nothing to forgive. This is your place Aramis. You can come and go as you wish," she assured him, sweeping concerned blue eyes over the man and noting the tired sad look in his eyes as well as his pale features. "Tell me Aramis are you well?" she questioned, her voice laced with concern.

"I am…well your majesty," he replied, flashing his trademark smile, though the look on the queen's face told him that she didn't believe his lie. Sighing deeply, he dropped his gaze to the stone in front of him. "6 year ago to this very day, Marie and I were married," he told her as he swallowed hard to stop a fresh set of tears falling. He was far too tired to cry any more. A soft touch to his arm made him look to the face of his queen. She smiled sadly at him.

"Aramis I am so sorry. I can't pretend to know what you must be feeling right now," she soothed, not knowing what else to say. The young musketeer merely nodded as he closed his hand around his wife's ring. Anne watched him silently, wishing she could ease his hurt so much more. "Aramis tell me about your wedding day. I imagine yours was so very different to mine. After all you married for love," she said. Her last words caused a gentle squeeze of her hand from the man in front of her, his soft eyes filled with sadness and compassion. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently before grasping it in his own. Anne found his touch relaxing with an understanding that he was seeking that comfort. "Will you tell me Aramis?" she asked him again. Taking a shaky breath, he nodded.

"Our day was prefect. Marie she…she looked like the queen that she was in my eyes…" He stopped realising his words in current company and he flashed Anne a sheepish grin. She chuckled with a shake of her head. "It's okay Aramis. I take no offence to what you have just said," she assured him. Nodding, he continued. "When she walked by Athos's side towards me, I realised then that I was the luckiest man in the world in that this angel loved me for all my faults. She trusted her life to me and I to her. Her beauty took me away. She looked enchantingly perfect. When her hand was placed in mine and she turned to me ready to take our vows…I….I…" His words caught as he shut his eyes tight, the memory hitting him hard thus causing a sharp pain to shoot through his head. Dropping the queen's hand, he gripped his head. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he frantically wondered what was happening to him.

"Aramis?" Anne called to him, panic evident in her voice. She watched as he gripped his head, his breathing coming out in short, sharp gasps. She looked round as she saw a musketeer walk past. He stopped when she called to him and turned quickly on his heels at her orders to go and get help. Turning back to the distressed man, Anne's worry was plainly evident on her face.

"Aramis. Talk to me!" she begged him, gently moving his hands from his head. He opened his eyes and she gasped upon seeing the pained look in them. "My head…it hurts" he whispered before crying out and shutting his eyes again then dropping to the floor, curling up tightly, bringing his hands up to grip where the pain was. Anne knelt next to him and placed a soothing hand to his body, her other running through his hair in attempt to calm him. "Make it stop. Please make it stop!" he sobbed, eyes still tight shut. "Just hold on Aramis help should be here soon," she soothed him, relief washing over as Treville and Athos appeared. Athos dropped down next to his brother while looking up at the queen.

"Your majesty what happened?" he asked her as he ran a gentle hand soothingly up and down Aramis's back.

"He was fine one moment as he spoke to me about his wedding day and then the next he was like this," she explained. Athos nodded. "We need to get him to a bed and we need some water and herbs to settle him. This hasn't happened for a while now but I should have known there was a chance it would today," Athos muttered, causing Anne to frown.

"Athos please what is happening to him? Will he be okay?" she questioned him. Athos turned sad blue eyes to her. "We do not know why it happens but when Aramis has certain flash backs, ones that cause him hurt or stress to his mind, this happens. He gets a pain in his head and the only way to be rid of it is for him to sleep it off. That is why we must get him to a bed," Athos replied before turning to Treville. "Captain, some help please. He won't be able to walk," Athos said. Treville nodded crouching down next to the sick man.

"Aramis? It's me Athos. The captain is here also. We are going to move you and get you to a bed okay? You need to sleep this off," Athos called to him gently. Aramis opened his eyes weakly and looked up into his brother's face. "It hurts Athos. Make it stop please," he begged, as another surge of pain pulsed through his mind. Athos nodded to Treville and between them they pulled the musketeer to his feet. The movement proved too much for Aramis, who promptly vomited. "I am sorry," he sobbed, his voice weak, his face a deathly white. Anne watched, concern at whether Aramis would make the journey home.

"Take him to one of the guest chambers in the palace," she ordered them, causing the two men to look at her in confusion. Anne nodded, walking to them so she stood in front of them. "He is too weak to go much further. You yourself Athos said he needs a bed fast. Take him to the chambers and I will send for my physician," Anne relayed her order, her eyes falling on Aramis whose eyes were bound shut again, pain gracing his handsome features.

"Your majesty is too kind," Treville said. Anne shook her head. "This is my fault. I asked him to speak of his memories of his wedding day. Go and take him now. He needs to rest," she replied, dismissing them and silently following behind.

Once inside the room, the two men lay the third down on the large bed. Athos turned to the Queen. "Your majesty, the room needs to be dark please. Light hurts his eyes too much," he said. She nodded as she ordered the maids to have the curtains pulled closed. Athos smiled a thank you before turning back to his friend.

"I have to get home. I need to be with my son." Aramis told him weakly, as he struggled up but a crippling burst of pain caused him to collapse against the pillows, crying out as he did so.

"Aramis please. You must rest. Thomas is safe he is with the two girls and D'Artagnan. You need to sleep. And drink this," Athos told him firmly, taking the cup from the physician. "No! I know what that is. I will not drink that," Aramis refused, pushing it away from him. Athos growled as he supported his friend's head and brought the cup to his mouth. "You will, Aramis, because it will take away the pain and help you settle. The sooner you drink, the sooner you can go home," Athos stated and to his relief the musketeer reluctantly drank it before sinking against the pillows once more when he had drained the cup. Athos nodded as he stepped away to watch the medicine take effect before he removed Aramis' boots and pulled the covers over him.

"Will he be okay?" Anne asked quietly, reminding Athos he was in the company of the queen. He smiled sadly at her. "He will be for now." He replied. She nodded, dropping her gaze back onto the sleeping man. "Is this why he is still not back on duty?" she questioned. Athos sighed deeply, sitting on the side of the bed. "His body gets stronger every day your majesty…" He paused wondering how best to word the next bit. "What we have to understand is that Aramis suffered a great loss. His body and mind suffered such a shock. You know yourself it nearly killed him. I fear it's going to take a long time for his mind to catch up with his body," Athos explained carefully. Anne merely nodded. "Come, your majesty. He needs peace and quiet to sleep. I will come for him before the evening to take him home," Athos said, going to make to lead her out. However, Anne stopped, shaking her head. "If it's all the same Athos, I will stay with him. I don't like the thought of him waking alone. I have no pressing matters this afternoon and it would be nice to have some peace and time to my own thoughts," Anne told him. Athos hesitated for a moment before eventually nodding. "If you wish your majesty." Bowing to her, he flashed her a small smile as he rose. "I will come for him later. Till then your majesty," hesitated and then he was gone, leaving Anne to make herself comfortable while Aramis slept on peacefully.

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><p>Emilie smiled slightly while she watched Thomas chat happily to one of the merchants as she stood at the next stall. Shaking her head, she walked over to him. "Come on you! I am sure this kind man has had enough of your chat today," she said with a smile at the elderly man in front of her. "Oh Madame it is okay. Young Thomas here was telling me all about how brave his father and uncles are and also how he will be a musketeer one day. Isn't that right little one?" he said, ruffling the boy's curls. "Yeah! I was telling the man how I am going to shoot guns just like papa and fight with my sword like uncle Athos!" Thomas grinned excitedly as he pretended to manoeuvre an imaginary sword. Emilie laughed. "And you will make a fine musketeer one day," she assured him. Thomas flashed her a toothy smile. "And I will make mama proud because she is always watching over me," he added. Emilie smiled sadly as she caught the compassionate look that crossed the merchants face. "Thomas your mother is proud of you every day. As is your father," she assured him.<p>

"My deepest sympathy Madame," the merchant said, tipping his hat to her. Emilie shook her head. "It's okay Monsieur. His mother passed about 5months ago but thank you," she stated, offering him a small smile before turning back to the little boy. "Come on Thomas. We should be heading home. Your father will be wondering where you are soon so say thank you to this kind man," she told him. Thomas turned to the merchant, "Thank for talking to me Monsieur," he thanked with a smile. The merchant laughed. "You are very welcome Thomas." Turning to Emile, he continued. "Good day to you, Madame." He inclined his head before returning back to his goods.

"Come on trouble. Home we go," she said, taking his little hand in hers. They hadn't gone too far before a voice made her stop. "Emilie wait! I will walk you back home!" She turned to see Marcus walking up to her and smiled fondly at him. This was one young musketeer she always enjoyed seeing. Athos spoke so highly of him after all he had done to help them with Lucas. He was a good kid and she knew with the four best backing him that he would go far.

"Marcus! How are you?" she asked as he fell in step with her while Thomas walked a little ahead. He nodded. "I am well thank you. And yourself?" he replied. Emilie smiled. "Very well thank you." Marcus returned the smile before letting it drop slightly as he watched the little boy in front of him.

"How is Aramis? I see the others most days but never long enough to enquire after him. He is missed at the garrison," he told her. Emilie sighed deeply. "He is getting better slowly Marcus but we always knew that his recovery would be a long one. He will be back when he is ready. There is no pressure on him. I think his main focus is being a father as that is all he wants to be right now and he is a fantastic one at that. Thomas wants for nothing," Emilie replied. Marcus nodded. He made to answer her when a cry stopped him. The cry sent ice through Emilie's blood as she recognised it - Thomas's. Panic kicked in as she couldn't see him anywhere.

"Thomas!" she shouted as she followed the sound with Marcus right behind her. When she rounded the corner, a strong arm clamped round her, a hand closing over her mouth to stop a scream escaping. Emile caught sight of Thomas in the same position as her, his bright eyes terrified as he stilled in the arms of the man. As Marcus rounded the corner himself she watched horrified as a knife was pulled against the 4 year old's throat causing her to thrash against her capture weakly in an attempt to free herself.

"One more step, musketeer, and the boy dies. It's no loss to us. There are plenty more brats on the street that will make great slaves," warned the man holding tight to Thomas. Marcus froze, not sure what to do. The look in the man's eyes told Marcus he was not lying and that he would heartlessly take the kid's life there and then. He glanced at Emilie and caught her eyes. He understood the look in them thus understanding what she wanted him to do. Nodding, he held his hands up, watching as they shoved the two captives onto a cart. It was in that moment that he noticed several more women and children gagged. The scene made something snap inside him and as they went to leave he pulled out his pistol ready to shoot but he never got the chance to pull the trigger for suddenly his world went black.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N thank you for reviews/follows and favourites! It what keeps us writing! Thank you again**_

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><p>Chapter 3<p>

Anne sighed deeply as she stood and made her way to the windows that still blacked out the room. She stopped by one before turning her eyes back onto the bed where the musketeer still lay, settled in his own dreams. Carefully, she pulled back the curtains slightly to gaze out onto the grounds. She ran her hands over her prayer beads as she raised her eyes to the heavens. It had shocked her and saddened her watching everything Aramis had suffered that day. She hadn't realised just quite how sick he was still. Closing her eyes, she sent out a prayer to their god to bring peace to the man that was no longer just a musketeer to her but a friend and a comfort.

"You don't have to hide the light your majesty. It does not hurt my eyes anymore." A voice caused her to break free from her thoughts and turn to face the bed once more, seeing the man that had moments ago been in her prayers propped up against the pillows with a slight smile on his face. She returned his smile as she slowly opened the curtains but stopped suddenly as she saw Aramis cower away from the light. "It's okay, Aramis. A little light is enough," she assured him gently, walking to the bed and taking a seat on the side of it. On a closer look, she saw that the musketeer didn't look that much better. His colour was still a ghostly white and he looked exhausted. Taking his hand gently in her own, she squeezed it causing him to turn tired eyes to lock with hers.

"How do you feel?" she asked him. Aramis looked away from her as shame washed over him. Here, he was in a bed in the palace feeling weak and useless being tended to by the person he had been sworn to protect. Shifting his hand from Anne's quickly, he moved the covers off himself, swinging his legs to the side of the bed where he was grateful to see his boots. He paused for a moment in an attempt to let the dizziness that he had fallen foul of settle.

Anne watched him, confused as to his sudden resentment. Getting up, she walked round to meet him, seeing him struggle to pull one of his boots on. "Here let me help you," she offered, gently moving to assist him. "I don't need your help your majesty. I am fine. I am perfectly capable of putting boots on!" he barked out a reply, snatching the boot from her but freezing as he did so before bringing his gaze up to meet her startled one. Regret filled his eyes almost instantly. "I…forgive me your majesty please I am sorry," he muttered, averting his eyes once again.

"Aramis, you have nothing to be sorry for," she told him softly. He shook his head as he finished getting dressed. "You must think me weak," he said quietly which caused the Queen to frown.

"Weak? Why would I ever think you weak?" she asked him, not understanding where he was going with his thoughts. Once again, she found herself looking into pained brown orbs. "Because I do your majesty. I think me weak. A grown man…a king's musketeer crippled to a bed because of a headache. And then being tended to by the queen. The person he is meant to protect. It makes me a weak man," he explained to her. Anne's heart began breaking at the shame gracing his tone.

"No, Aramis, you must never think that. Sickness is not a sign of weakness. It is your body telling you that you are not ready to face the world yet. That is all. You suffered so much. Your body and most of all your mind were dealt a huge shock. No one expects your recovery to be quick Aramis," she told him firmly. Aramis stayed silent. "She was your wife… Your Queen… Your world. Don't rush letting her go. But don't for one moment think you holding onto her makes you weak. Time is a healer but you have to heal in your own time," she said, her tone softening a little. Aramis just nodded before standing unsteadily. He paused, letting the room stop spinning before turning to the queen. "Forgive me your majesty again with the way I spoke to you. I must leave now. I need to get back to my son," he said quietly, walking towards the door. He paused, turning once more to look up on his Queen and bowing slightly as he did so. "Thank you," he whispered and then he was gone. Anne sat for a few moments, while she allowed his last words wash over her. She knew there was more meaning behind them than a simple thank you. Sighing sadly, she got up and left the room to head to her own quarters while she hoped that Aramis would not be alone that night. He needed looking after.

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><p>Marcus sat slumped in a chair as Constance cleaned the wound to his head. Athos stood in the doorway of the kitchen they were in while D'Artagnan and Porthos sat opposite him at the table. D'Artagnan had found Marcus sprawled in the alley and after failing to understand what the young musketeer had been telling him had brought him back to Aramis's home. It been closest and he knew Constance would at least be there to tend to Marcus' wound. Leaving Marcus in the capable hands of his love, he had gone to find the other two. Now here they were, grim faced as they tried to process what Marcus had just told them.<p>

"Do you know why they took Emilie and Thomas? I mean are you sure there was no intent or message attached to it?" Athos checked, thoughts of all that the family had just endured still very fresh in his mind. Marcus looked at his superior. "I am sure Athos. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Emilie wanted me to let them go without a fight and to come and find you. But seeing those children and women gagged in the back of a cart…something inside me snapped. Hence how I ended up with this," he explained again, wincing as Constance pulled the last stitch. She sent him an apologetic smile. Athos nodded, running a hand through his hair, worry washing over him as he thought of his love and nephew.

"What are you thinking Athos?" Porthos asked, watching the look on the older musketeer's face. Athos shook his head. "I honestly don't know. I mean the children for slaves…but the women…" He trailed off as it suddenly dawned on him what they would be used for and he knew by the look on Constance's face that she had realised also.

"Treville has to know about this," D'Artagnan spoke up. "The king also must know that women and children are being taken for slavery," he added. Porthos snorted. "The king won't care," he said bitterly.

"The king won't but the Queen will," Constance said, causing them all to look at her. "The Queen will when she learns that Emilie and especially Thomas have been taken," she pointed out. Athos nodded. "Constance is right. The Queen will back any plan we have to get them all returned safely," he agreed, just as the front door opened causing everyone to freeze.

"Aramis…oh god!" Constance muttered, as the man in question walked tiredly into the kitchen but stopping as he took in the site that greeted him. Confusion flashed in his eyes which he turned to rest on his brother.

"Athos? What is going on? Why are you all here? Why is Marcus here?" he questioned. Athos watched as panic very quickly replaced confusion and he stepped up towards Aramis, aware of both Porthos and D'Artagnan getting to their feet.

"Where is my son?" Aramis asked, stepping back out of the room. Athos watched helplessly as Aramis raced through the house calling out for Thomas. The three friends stood in the hallway waiting for him to return to them. It didn't take long for Aramis to reappear, a frantic look in his eyes and his face ashen.

"Where is he?" Aramis demanded, as Athos grabbed him. "Aramis listen to me…" Athos started, but was stopped as Aramis tried to fight against him. "WHERE IS MY SON!?" He shouted, grabbing Athos by the collar and shoving him against the wall. Porthos took hold of Aramis, pulling him off his friend. "GET OFF ME! WHERE IS HE?! WHERE IS THOMAS?" Aramis cried, trying in vain to pull free from Porthos's grip.

"Aramis, I am so sorry. Thomas and Emilie they have been kidnapped…" Marcus's words caused the musketeer to still in Porthos's arms.

"What did you say? Tell me you are wrong! Please tell me you are wrong," he begged, his eyes pleading the musketeer to tell him he was lying. Marcus shook his head slowly. "I am sorry, but he was taken. There was nothing I could do," he said, but Aramis heard nothing except the words 'he was taken'. His boy was gone...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Aramis felt his vision cloud over with the red of anger as he brought an elbow up which connected hard with Porthos's jaw causing the bigger man to weaken his grip, surprised by the power behind the blow. Aramis flew at Marcus, throwing him hard against the wall. The other two musketeers grimaced as they heard Marcus' head connect with the hard material and the youngster let out a yelp as it touched on his fresh wound. Aramis, blinded by rage, saw none of it and instead he held the boy against the wall, a hand grasped tightly round his throat. "Why didn't you stop them?! Why did you let them take my boy?!" Aramis hissed, the look in his eyes sending a wave of fear through Marcus. "Aramis please. If I had reacted, they would have killed Thomas right there!" he gasped, trying in vain to swallow against Aramis's vice like grip. "THEY TOOK MY SON AND YOU…YOU LET THEM!" Aramis shouted, bringing his fist up ready to connect it with the young man's face. Marcus closed his eyes waiting for the blow but it never came.

"ENOUGH!" Athos barked, grabbing his brother by the shoulder and forcefully pulling him off before throwing him hard against the opposite wall. D'Artagnan and Porthos both pounced on Aramis and pinned him against it, ignoring his attempts to break free from them. "MY BOY IS GONE! HE…HE LET THEM TAKE HIM! I WILL KILL HIM!" Aramis screamed, his body trembling with anger and exhaustion as he continued to fight against his two friends.

"Marcus go! Get out of here! Go to Treville tell him all that has happened," Athos ordered him, pushing him to the door. The youngster looked back at where Aramis was still fighting against the easy hold of the others and screaming his threats. "Athos I am so sorry," he muttered, tearing his eyes away from the sick musketeer. Athos squeezed his shoulder and gently shook his head. "You did the right thing. You have kept them alive and we will find them. Now go!" he told him, watching the boy step to the street and make haste to the garrison. He closed the door before turning back to see Aramis starting to weaken. He turned to watch Constance walk out the kitchen. She looked at him sadly as she held up a cup full of water and he knew what was in it. He just nodded. Taking the cup from her and walking over to where the other two still had his brother pinned against the wall, he held Aramis's head still as he forced the man to drink the liquid.

"Take him to his bed, Porthos. He has been through a lot today. It won't take him long to react to the sedative," Athos muttered. Porthos nodded silently, leading his friend to his room. Aramis was already falling victim to the drug's effects. Athos turned to see D'Artagnan watching him. He smiled sadly at his youngest friend. "We will find them Athos. We have to!" D'Artagnan told him, his tone determined. Athos just nodded, not knowing what else to say. His mind was split between that of worry over his love and nephew and fear at what this situation they were now in would do to his already sick brother.

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><p>"Tell me, Treville, why this has only now been brought to my attention! That only now I hear of my people taken from the streets for slaves!" King Louis demanded from the man stood in front of him. Treville stood to attention as he always did and dutifully took the dressing down he had just received from the king. Sighing inwardly, he took a deep breath before answering.<p>

"Admittedly your majesty I knew nothing of this myself. It was only brought to my attention because…because one of the children is the son of one of my men, along with another's love," he replied, glancing quickly at the queen and noting her face pale at the words.

"Well your musketeers better get out there and find out who is behind this! You better hope the children and women are returned safely!" Louis fired harshly. "Now go! You are dismissed Captain!" he added. Treville bowed silently before taking his leave. He was not surprised that moments later, he heard the queen call out to him. Stopping, he turned to face her, bowing again.

"Your majesty," he greeted her, bringing himself to full height and seeing the worry etched on the young woman's face. "Captain, please tell me your information is wrong?" she begged him, grateful he understood what she meant. He sighed sadly shaking his head. "I wish it was, your majesty. Believe me I do. But Emilie and Thomas were both taken today," he told her gently, watching as her hand flew to her mouth, blue eyes glistening with the threat of tears. "How…how is Aramis?" she asked him quietly.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I am headed there now." Anne nodded, wishing with all her heart she could go with him to offer comfort to the musketeer. She knew that, with Thomas taken, Aramis' will to survive was waning and she wondered, as she was sure the others also did, if the marksman would have it in him to hold on to the hope that his son would be returned to him. She placed a delicate hand on Treville's arm. "Please tell them that both Thomas and Emilie are in my prayers. I will pray for their safe return everyday 'til they are back in the arms of the ones that long for them," Anne whispered. Treville smiled sadly, placing a gloved hand over hers and squeezing it gently. "Your words will be of great comfort to them all, your majesty," he assured her, before letting go, bowing one last time and leaving the palace.

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><p>Porthos stood silently, watching the eldest musketeer as he sat by the side of his brother's bed with sharp eyes watching over him as he slept. Stepping up to him, Porthos placed a gentle hand on Athos' shoulder, squeezing it slightly. "We will get them back Athos!" he said firmly. Athos stayed quiet for a few moments.<p>

"We have to Porthos. Otherwise this…" He paused, gesturing to where Aramis lay peacefully, protected by a drug induced dream. "This will be Aramis' life. Fits of anger, hysteria and the will to want to take his life… It will happen in turn and each time, we will have to force a sedative down him just to keep him calm…to keep him alive!" Athos stopped as he took a shaky breath in. "I just can't watch it happen. Not again," he murmured finally, looking up at the big man. Porthos swallowed hard upon seeing the broken look in his friend's eyes. He knelt down next to Athos. "We/Will/Find them, Athos. And we will find them alive," Porthos assured him. Athos grabbed his friend's hand tightly. "I love her, Porthos. I can't lose her…I can't," he whispered, feeling his resolve drop as Porthos gathered him up in his arms just as Athos broke down in the comfort of his brother's embrace.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N welcome to new followers and thank you to my faithfuls for sticking with me and for your kind words. The next two chapters hold a lot of angst I am sorry but action will kick in after. Hold fire and stick with it. Thank you again enjoy! And let me know what you are thinking always.**_

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><p>Chapter 5<p>

"How is he?" A voice brought Athos out of a sleep he hadn't realised he had slipped into. He frowned and while getting his bearings, his eyes fell first on his brother who was, to his relief, still sleeping soundly. He then turned to the man whose voice had brought him back to reality.

"Captain," he greeted groggily, tilting his head to the older solider as he walked further into the room. Athos watched Treville sweep a look over his best marksman and saw the sorrow grace his leader's features as he did so. "How is he?" Treville repeated his question, turning eyes back on his second. Athos sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "Not well," was the short answer. Treville nodded, gesturing to the bed. "I am guessing this is not a natural sleep he is in?" he concluded sadly. Athos shook his head. "No. He was so hysterical that giving him a sedative was the kindest thing, especially after the sickness that took him earlier today. At least this way his body will rest and his mind also to a point," Athos explained. Again, the Captain nodded silently. Athos stiffly got to his feet, stretching out his body as it protested from being sat to long. "I think we have a lot we need to discuss Captain. It is best we leave Aramis to sleep and join the others. He won't wake for a while yet," Athos said, moving his hand towards the door and following Treville. He left the door ajar so they could hear if Aramis was to wake or if his peaceful slumber was plagued by one of his nightmares.

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><p>Emilie sat amongst the women and children, Thomas held tightly to her. She could tell by the dimming of the light slipping through the tiny window in the room they were in that is was nearing night. Despite it being the height of summer, a draft swept through the small space and the feeling of damp was slowly creeping into her bones. It caused her to shiver and pull her thin summer cloak tighter round herself and Thomas. She felt the 4 year old push closer to her, his little hands gripping into her dress as he sought comfort. She leant down and placed a gentle kiss to his head as her mind wondered to Paris and her friends. She was certain that they would be planning a way to rescue them all. That she didn't doubt. She thought of Athos: of the love she had waiting for her and the promise in a new life she never thought she would find. She felt tears sting in her eyes as they threatened to fall so she quickly lifted a hand and wiped them away. She knew she had to stay strong for Thomas. The little boy was scared and confused, emotions she was sure his father matched. At the thought of Aramis, her heart clenched painfully. He had only just started to get better and now with Thomas taken, his mind would spiral back into darkness and every moment his son was apart from him, he would slip further away from them all. Clinging on to Thomas tighter, she sent out a silent prayer. Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. 5 men came striding in with a sixth appearing suddenly behind them. Emilie took in his appearance and quickly recognised him as the man who had held a knife to Thomas's throat. She didn't like the look held in his eyes.<p>

"Take all the children!" Michal demanded, waving his hands to order his men to their task. Emilie's eyes widened in horror as she tightened her hold on Thomas. "NO!" she cried, causing the man to turn to her. Within a few short movements he was towering over her. Despite her fear, Emilie held his gaze steadily. "You can't take them from us. They are just children and they need us. Please…" she begged him. Michal sneered, dropping down close to her. He run his hand through her hair thus causing Emilie to shudder at his touch while the smell of his stale breath almost made her gag. She watched his eyes drop onto Thomas, the small boy watching him with big terrified eyes. She could feel his little body tremble against her. "I remember this little one. A musketeer all to ready to kill for him back…something tells me he is a special one!" Tilting his head to the side, Michal took Thomas in properly. "A handsome fella isn't he? He will bring a pretty penny of that I am sure." Returning dark eyes back onto Emilie, she felt him sweep a lecherous look over her again and she shuddered under his gaze. "But you are not his mother. So what is the story here, my sweet?" Michal questioned. Emilie glared at him, green eyes flashing dangerously. "I am the closest thing he has to a mother," she hissed. Michal nodded thoughtfully. "Shame the mother is no longer around…" he continued, again flicking a look at Thomas. "She was clearly a beauty," he said. In a flash, strong hands flung themselves around the boy, pulling him away from Emilie. "NO!" Emilie cried, as she tried in vain to hold on to Thomas, the heartbreaking screams from the four year old ripping through her. "Thomas, listen to me. You be brave, you hear me? You be brave. Your papa will come for you. He will come for us, Thomas!" she promised him, as Michal finally managed to separate them. "I want my papa!" Thomas cried out, blue eyes wide with fear as tears spilled down his face. "He will come Thomas. Be brave," she shouted, as he was taken from her sight. Emilie felt her body crumble in on itself as she broke down.

"Please…please God hear my prayer. Bring them to us. Bring the musketeers to us before it's too late," she sobbed.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N I am posting this next chapter so quick so it gives me a kick to write the next one as I have not yet and I don't like keeping you waiting! Am hoping it have one by the end of the week for you! Till now enjoy if that's the right word more angst. **_

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><p>Chapter 6<p>

A shattering cry broke through the silence that the four men and Constance had fallen into, none of them finding the strength to discuss what was to be done. Athos was first to his feet, his instinct to protect his brother triggering his mind back to life. However, Constance was quicker and had reached the door before him.

"I will go," she said. D'Artagnan went to protest. The heart wrenching cries coming from their broken brother as he cried out for his son ripped through each of the four soldiers like a dagger to their own souls. Not wanting Constance to be left alone with Aramis, Athos went to aid D'Artagnan's plea but the girl held her hand up to stop them.

"You hear that? Those are cries of a man that is so broken…a man who's will to survive is slipping away from all of us every second his son is apart from him!" She paused, taking a shuddering breath while her own heart clenched painfully at the sound coming from the room. "You all stay here and think of a way to get an Emilie and Thomas back and quickly. I can't watch him go through this pain again…because we all know in our hearts that Aramis won't survive it this time," she whispered, before leaving them and making haste to the distressed musketeer.

Constance headed toward the cries, finding Aramis slumped on the floor by his son's bed where he was clinging tight to a teddy. Once a little closer, her heart cried that little bit more when she realised it was the teddy Marie had made for Thomas soon after he was born. She paused, wondering how best to approach him. Aramis was sobbing hard to the point his breath was coming short and sharp. His tired body shook with each cry as he rocked slightly while his glazed eyes were fixed on the floor. Taking a deep breath, she walked to him, kneeling down so she was next to her friend. Carefully, she reached out and placed a gentle hand round his shoulders, grateful when he didn't pull away but saddened that he didn't seem to settle in the slightest at her touch.

"Aramis? My darling, you have to calm down," she soothed, rubbing her hand up and down his shoulder in a hope to soothe him just a little bit. "Why is he gone? Why…why did they take my boy?" Aramis sobbed, fixing brown eyes on her. Constance placed a gentle hand to his face, wiping some of his tears from it. "I don't know Aramis but we will find them," she answered. A look Constance did not recognise flashed in his eyes before the musketeer pushed himself violently away. He was desperately trying to pull himself to his feet, stumbling as he did so which caused him to crash into the wall once again before he sunk to the floor. Panicked he had hurt himself, Constance rushed to him, stopping as Aramis cowered away from her. "Don't come near me! Don't! You will only get hurt," he warned, causing her to sigh inwardly and fight to hold back her own tears. "I won't get hurt, Aramis. Why would you think that? I just want to help, my love. Please," she begged him, stepping to him again and watching in sadness as he pushed himself further to the wall while shaking his head. "Everyone I love is taken from me. My wife, my son! Why?! What did I do so wrong? What did I do so wrong for my God to punish me like this?! WHAT DID I DO?!" he cried out, as Constance fell by his side. Ignoring his weak fight, she wrapped him in her arms and pulled him close to her, resting her head upon his. "What did I do?" he sobbed, as a fresh set of tears cascaded down his pale features. "Shhhh. You have done nothing wrong, Aramis. Nothing. You have just been handed a cruel, cruel card, my darling friend. A card you certainly did not deserve," she soothed him, rocking him slightly and praying she could ease his tears at least but knowing she would never be able to ease his pain.

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><p>A while later, D'Artagnan walked into Aramis' room upon where he found Aramis sound asleep in the arms of Constance. He noted the musketeer clinging to a teddy and sighed when he saw which one it was. Constance looked up at him, smiling slightly as he took a seat next to her on the side of the bed.<p>

"How is he?" D'Artagnan asked. Constance shook her head sadly. "He isn't good, D'Artagnan. He asked me why he had been punished and what he had done that was so wrong to have his wife and son taken from him." She paused, running a hand through Aramis' thick curls and feeling his body relax slightly to the touch. "This isn't fair. No one should suffer like he has, least of all someone as loving and gentle as Aramis," she finished, grateful for the arm that came around her shoulder and the kiss that was tenderly planted to her forehead. Careful not to wake her friend, she leant into D'Artagnan, needing to feel his comfort. "I am going to stay with him tonight. He needs the comfort and he needs the closeness. I am worried if I move, he will wake and won't settle well again. He needs to rest," she told her love, feeling him nod his head in reply.

"We have a plan but I need you in on it, Constance. I need you to agree to help us…" D'Artagnan told her. She moved slightly from him so she could look at him better. "I will do anything that will mean the safe return of Emilie and Thomas. That will give Athos his heart back and Aramis his life," she assured him. D'Artagnan bit down on his lip. He was not happy with what was to be asked but it had been his idea and the best one they had.

"It is going to be dangerous but it's all we have. It's the only plan that has any chance of working so are you sure you are up for it?" he checked with her. Constance nodded slowly, never once breaking eye contact with him. "I trust you with my life, D'Artagnan. Tell me what you want me to do," she replied, her tone determined. D'Artagnan nodded, fixing tired eyes once again on the brother lying in his love's arms, his hand still gripping tight to all he had left of his son and wife and clinging onto the only comfort he had. Yes, it was dangerous. It was D'Artagnan's biggest and deadliest task yet but he cared for none of that if it meant Aramis would have happiness and peace in his life. Moving his gaze back up to meet Constance's own, he saw in her eyes the same determination he had for stepping headlong into the danger about to face them both.

"D'Artagnan please…tell me what you want me to do?"


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N I am so sorry for the wait. Life just went a bit crazy over the last few weeks. But it's calmed down a bit now and am hoping to get back on track with the writing! Welcome new followers and thank you everyone for being patient. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. It sets up the main arc of the storyline now. Enjoy.**_

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><p>Chapter 7<p>

Constance knelt down next to where Aramis lay on the long chair sleeping soundly. She could hear Treville talking to the four men about the plan that was **being **put into motion that day. She sighed deeply as her mind went over all that D'Artagnan had told her the night before. She was scared, she couldn't deny that, but after staying the night with Aramis, suffering his nightmares with him, she knew she had to go through with it. Leaning her head close _to_ the sleeping man she kissed his forehead gently.

"Keep your faith strong Aramis. Your son will return to your arms my friend." She whispered kissing him again before moving back slightly feeling a presence at the door. "How is he?" Athos' voice broke through the silence. Constance sighed moving the blanket more so it was covering the musketeer watching him curl into it warmth. "Resting peacefully." She replied getting to her feet and joining Athos at the door.

"He will eat but you have to coax him with each mouthful. I suggest putting some herbs in the food…it will keep him calm and encourage him to sleep." She told him. Athos nodded placing a soothing hand on Constance's arm. "We will look after him till we come for you. Then he will be moved to the garrison and kept a close eye on Constance I promise." He assured her. She nodded. "I just wish we didn't all have to leave him. He needs us more now then ever Athos. And we are all deserting him." She muttered sadness lacing every word. "I know and believe me I don't want to, but we have no other choice. He will be safe a looked after at the garrison. And I do not doubt that that the Queen will visit him. He won't be alone." He soothed. Sighing she nodded knowing he was right. Athos wrapped his arms around her and held her close planting a kiss to her head. "You are a good women Constance my sister picked well in friends with you and Emilie. We are all so lucky to have you both around. There is no way we could have survived the last months without you. Aramis especially. I know you are scared, but what you are doing is beyond brave and I am forever in your debt for it. Thank you." Athos told her sincerely as they pulled away. Constance reached up and planted a kiss to his cheek. "I would do it for any of you. I just want you all to be happy." She whispered, hugging him tight again before glancing one last look at their sleeping friend sending out a prayer from as he did. Seeing D'Artagnan stood at the door she nodded. Athos squeezed her hand gently as she left him and followed her love silently out the house Marcus close behind, heading to the market and to their fate

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><p>"Okay so stay close enough to keep watch but don't be seen. They know you from when Emilie and Thomas were taken." D'Artagnan muttered to Marcus who was stood next to him as they watched the men take innocence once more off the streets. Both musketeers fighting against everything to not go out there and take the men down there and then.<p>

"Don't worry I have your back. I just watch I know that. And then ride straight back. We have this…we can do this we have to." Marcus replied squeezing his friend's shoulder. D'Artagnan just nodded turning brown eyes onto his love.

Constance stood just behind the two men. She was scared and watching all the was going on was doing nothing for her nerves. But yet again her thoughts fell on the night just spent comforting her friend as he thrashed out his nightmares. She brought her own eyes up to meet D'Artagnan's questioning ones and she nodded. "I am ready. Let's do this." She whispered. He smiled sadly at her, taking a rag and placing it in her mouth. He leant down and kissed her gently on the lips just before he did so. "I love you Constance always." He said quietly. She just nodded grateful for the material in her mouth stopping her from speaking not trusting her voice. With one last glance at Marcus D'Artagnan took Constance in his grip and stepped out into the market.

"Oi! Wait!" He called out causing Michal to turn and face him. The man narrowed his eyes striding over to where D'Artgnan stood eying up Constance also. "What do you want?" He demanded his voice telling him there he was walking a fine line. D'Artagnan didn't waver instead held the man's glare steadily.

"I have been watching what you do. I want in! I have nothing here in Paris I am desperate to escape…for various reasons. So I want in." D'Artagnan replied never breaking eye contact. "Plus you missed one. This one here is a pretty thing! She will fetch some money. Have tested her she is good." He added smirking at the last bit, inside hating himself for his words. Michal pondered his plea, he glanced at his men who just shrugged, before training his eyes back on the musketeer. "Put her in the cart with the others. You can ride with them. Quickly we haven't time to waste." Michal finally ordered. D'Artagnan nodded doing as was instructed surprised at how easy that had been. Climbing onto the cart he glanced Marcus jump upon his mount giving him a discreet nod as he followed them a good distantce. The first part of the plan was in motion. But the three knew this was the easy bit. The hardest was yet to come

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><p>Athos stood watching, as Porthos sat coaxing Aramis to eat some broth, muttering words of comfort with each mouthful the musketeer forced himself to take. He now understood what Constance had meant. Hearing the door go he stepped into the hallway to find Treville stood there.<p>

"It all went to plan. They have gone. Marcus behind. Now we wait. I suggest you and Porthos stay here till he returns with news." Treville paused glancing over Athos' shoulder into the kitchen sighing sadly at the scene. "Aramis needs you. You will be leaving him soon enough. Give him the support he needs for now." He finished off Athos nodded he was about to reply when a retching sound could be heard from the kitchen followed by Porthos shouting him. "Go to him Athos. I will come by tomorrow." Treville said squeezing the younger man's shoulder before leaving the home. Athos sighed heading into the kitchen where he was greeted by Aramis slumped over the sink bringing up what little food he had eaten, his arms shaking as he steadied himself against the side. Porthos had his arms wrapped round him supporting the rest of him.

"I am sorry." The sick man muttered as Porthos lead him back to the chair, glancing at Athos who just smiled sadly at him, before pouring some water and handing it to Aramis, who drank it carefully. "You have nothing to be sorry for my friend." Porthos assured him, as Athos placed a hand to his friend's forehead feeling it clammy underneath.

"Aramis is your head paining you again?" Athos asked him carefully. Aramis nodded slowly. "A little." He whispered, squinting up at his friend. Athos sighed recognising the signs. He nodded to Porthos. "Come on you. Let's get you to bed. You need to rest." Porthos said helping him to his room. Athos went ahead making sure all the curtains were drawn to stop light filling the room. Aramis sank onto his bed pulling the covers over himself. He looked up at his two friends. "They will find them won't they? They will bring them home safe?" He begged reaching out and grabbing Athos' hand as he did so. Athos gripped it tightly. "They will Aramis. I promise you they will come home." He assured him. Porthos reached over and squeezed his friend's shoulder.

"Get some rest Aramis. We will both be here when you wake. We aren't going anywhere." Porthos soothed him moving to the door. Athos kept hold of his brother's hand until he felt Aramis' grip loosen and he was certain he was asleep before he followed Porthos out the room.

"Do you think they will come home?" Athos questioned the bigger man once they were out of earshot. Porthos nodded resolutely "Yes Athos I do! And even if you don't believe it yourself you have to keeping believing for Aramis. He feeds off us Athos! He feeds off our emotions and what we believe will happen. So we have to keep our faith for Aramis' sake even if we ourselves are doubting it." Porthos told him firmly. Athos could only nod in reply as he sank onto a chair pouring some wine for himself and Porthos. It was going to be a long wait till news would come.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N again sorry bout the long wait. Life is slowing me down at the moment. I have all this planned in my mind just need the time to write it. I promise will try and get another update this week. For now a long one for you. Please if you are still reading let me know your thoughts. Thank you always.**_

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><p>Chapter 8<p>

Aramis woke a few hours later, opening his eyes to darkness. Frowning slightly, he pulled himself up to a sitting position, grateful that the pain in his head had dulled down to a manageable ache. He could hear voices coming from his kitchen and he recognised the voices that belonged to his Captain and two friends. Sighing deeply, he rolled on his side and pulled his pillow over his head to block out the noise.

The last day had passed in a blur to Aramis. Yes, he knew what was happening; he knew that Thomas and Emilie had been taken and he had some recollection that a plan had been formed but as he had not been included in any form of decision upon the rescue mission of his son, he had no idea what was going on. Though he knew the other musketeers were protecting him, Aramis felt that, seeing as it was his son that was missing, he should have a say in matters. Sighing again, he threw the pillow down and rolled onto his back, brown eyes fixed on the ceiling as he admitted to himself that he would be of no use to them and the rescue mission. He wasn't physically nor mentally fit to go out in the field and any mission personal to him would only bring trouble to the others if he got involved.

Feeling restlessness take hold of his body, he pulled himself out of bed. He slowly dragged some clean clothes on and after grabbing his cloak, he silently slipped out through the back door of his home, putting his boots on only when he had stepped outside but cowered slightly at the sudden light that burned his eyes and caused a pain to shoot through his head. Cursing, he ignored it before turning and heading in the direction of a sanctuary - some place he could go to where he would not be disturbed and where he could have the peace he so long craved.

His path eventually took him to the palace chapel and he stepped silently in. He knew his two friends would search for him yet here, he was safe. They wouldn't think to check the royal place of worship. He sunk down onto one of the cushions in a pew, raising his eyes to the God he believed so strongly in.

At that moment Aramis felt a wave of peace sweep over him. He had nothing. His wife now lay with the angels and his son was gone. Every waking minute was becoming more and more difficult to live through. His will to survive was disappearing. Why live when his family was no longer with him? Here though, that peace he had sought for so long had found him. Bringing his head down to meet clasped hands, he began to pray, hoping his God would bring his son back to him.

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><p>D'Artagnan allowed his eyes to take in every bit of the building that was drawing ever closer to them. It was an old barn, big enough to have been of good use in its time and he wondered why it had been abandoned. He glanced at the frightened faces of the women and children sat with him and felt a rush of anger surge through him. He hated the thought of people being scared of him when all he wanted to do was protect them but he couldn't let his guard down for one second and instead returned his gaze ahead. He felt Constance brush a hand against the side of his leg in a simple sign to tell him he still had her trust.<p>

The cart stopped abruptly and Michal appeared around the back quickly. "Get them off and separate them straight away. You!" he fired, pointing at D'Artagnan "You will follow Leon and keep watch over the brats. We stay here for two more days and then move on," he said. D'Artagnan merely nodded, shooting a sly glance to Constance and ignoring the desperate cries coming from mothers as they were separated from their children. Grabbing a small girl in his arms, a girl who could have been only a few years older than Thomas, he followed Leon behind the barn into a darkened room. He placed the child down and she immediately fled to cower in a corner. It took him a few moments to adjust to the light and just in time to see the man he had been paired with bring down a piece of wood hard onto the back of a boy who couldn't have been much more the 10.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" D'Artagnan fired, grabbing the wood from the man before he could deliver another blow. Leon looked at him and shrugged, clearly caring little for what he had done. "Michal said if they cried or got smart that we have to teach them a lesson! This one here got too cocky last night defending a brat younger than him after I beat him for crying. He had to learn," Leon replied. D'Artagnan felt sick to the stomach at the words said but he forced an impassive look across his features. "You beat for no reason and they won't bring any of us any money. That will just anger Michal more and between you and me he is not someone I would want to upset!" D'Artagnan said to the idiot. He watched the clogs working in the stupid mind before the brut slowly nodded. "You are right…but any sound or back chat and they will pay!" he warned. D'Artagnan didn't say anything as he watched the man leave to go and speak with the rest of the gang. Once he was sure Leon had gone, D'Artagnan dropped down next to the young boy.

"Are you okay?" D'Artagnan asked. The boy cowered away from him and the musketeer held his hands up in a sign that he would not hurt him. "It's okay. I am here to help. I am a musketeer. My friends are on their way to help me get you all out of here. Now can I have a look at your back?" D'Artagnan assured him. The boy hesitated for a moment, taking in his appearance before nodding and allowing D'Artagnan to lift the tattered shirt up to reveal a mark where the wood had hit. To the musketeer's relief, the skin had not been broken but the bruising was already starting. "Nothing is broken but it will hurt for a bit when the bruising starts. So why did he hit you? Who was it you were defending?" D'Artagnan questioned, his eyes searching faces he didn't know, his need for word of his nephew great but his heart sinking as it seemed Thomas was nowhere.

A tug on his arm made him look back down to the young lad. "If you come with me, I will show you. He is the youngest of us and I was trying to look after him. He is scared. I think they broke his arm," the young boy said, leading D'Artagnan to a corner where a small bundle was curled up against the wall, clutching his arm to his shaking body. D'Artagnan's heart sank as he did to knees next to the boy. Reaching out, he gently placed a hand to the child's shoulder. "Thomas?" he whispered, his fears confirmed as terrified blue eyes opened to look at him. "Oh god. It's okay. It's okay, buddy! I am here now," D'Artagnan soothed, pulling the little boy carefully to him. He turned to the older boy next to him, realising he didn't know his name. "What is your name?" D'Artagnan asked as he soothed Thomas gently, feeling his arm for breaks before ripping his shirt to form a make shift sling to support it. Thomas whimpered as he touched it. "It hurts uncle D!" he sobbed. "I know it does but you are being so brave my little soldier and this will help," D'Artagnan soothed, before turning back to the older boy as he spoke.

"My name is Jerome," he replied finally, watching the musketeer tend to the injured boy. D'Artagnan nodded flashing him a smile. "Nice to meet you, Jerome. I am D'Artagnan of the King's musketeers and this here is Thomas. He is the son of one of my best friends, who is also a musketeer. I need you to look after him for me okay? I have to play the bad guy to keep you all safe. It would ease my mind if I knew that Thomas was in good care," D'Artagnan said, holding the gaze of the young boy. "Here… take this. Use it if you have to," he added, handing the 10 year old his dagger. Jerome took it carefully, looking at it before returning brown eyes onto the man in front of him. "I will look after Thomas, Monsieur. I promise," he swore. D'Artagnan squeezed his shoulder before turning back to the four year old.

"Thomas, listen to me. I will always be in this room. But I have leave you with Jerome. He will protect you. Your papa will be here soon. I promise. He loves you so much little one and you have to stay strong for him okay? Can you do that for me? Can you be brave like a musketeer?" D'Artagnan told him quietly. Thomas looked at him from underneath a mass of curls, eyes scared but trusting as he nodded. "I can be brave like papa," he whispered. D'Artagnan smiled sadly, planting a gentle kiss to the boy's head before getting up quickly hearing voices. "Stay safe you two… I am here to keep you all safe. No harm will come to you now. I promise," he said quietly before heading towards the door to await instructions, praying his friends would hurry.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N again sorry life is crazy right now! I have another update written will post over the next few days and try and catch up on more writing over the weekend! Thank you for all your support! Enjoy, and keep letting me know what you think!**_

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><p>Chapter 9<p>

Constance followed the other women as they were led into the main door of the barn. Once her eyes had adjusted to the sudden change in light, she searched the area 'til they fell on the dejected form of her friend. Once shoved roughly inside with the threat that if they so much as made a sound they would not know what hit them, they were left once again in the dimness of the room. Moving straight to Emilie, Constance dropped down next to her.

"Emilie?" Constance called to her quietly, causing the girl to turn dull green eyes to focus on her. Emilie brought her hand to her mouth as tears threatened to fall. "Constance? Oh god! How did you end up here? How did they get hold of you?" she whispered, dropping her hand down and grabbing the younger girl in for a hug, holding her tightly, just needing to make sure that she was really there.

"They didn't. D'Artagnan is here as well. He has been taken to where the children are," Constance replied, causing her friend to pull away shooting her a confused look. "I don't understand. What do you mean D'Artagnan is here?" Emilie questioned her. Constance glanced round sure that they would not be overheard before dropping her voice to a whisper. "Marcus followed us both here so that he could report back to the Captain and get help to us. D'Artagnan has had to pretend to be one of them. He can keep an eye on Thomas. I can keep you company. Help is coming, Emilie. They will come for us soon," Constance explained, seeing the relief fill Emilie's eyes.

"Thank god. Tell me… how is Athos?" she asked after her love. Constance nodded, leaning back against the wall. "He is holding up. He is worried for you of course. He loves you so much but having to look after Aramis means he won't get lost to his darkness which is a relief," Constance replied. Emilie nodded, grabbing her friend's hand. "Aramis? How bad is he?" Constance looked down sadly at her question. "Back in hell, Emilie. I hope we get home soon and Thomas is safe. He is losing his grip on life," she answered honestly. Emilie merely gripped her friend's hand in silence, not knowing what to say or having any words of comfort to offer.

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><p>It was not quite dawn as Anne made her way to the chapel. She had found herself spending more time here of late and the last few days even more so, keeping her promise and praying for the safe return of Emilie and Thomas. Sighing deeply, she stepped into the holy sanctuary, making her way silently towards the cross before her. Something to her left caught her eye and she turned fully, finding her gaze falling on the still form of a musketeer.<p>

"Aramis…?" she breathed, moving slowly to him, panic creeping through every part of her whilst praying he was alive, and his body eerily still which was very unsettling to her. Stopping just short of him, relief washed through her as she saw the steady rise and fall of his chest, telling her he was just sleeping. Deciding he looked peaceful enough, she turned to leave him, her skirts catching on the pew as she did so. Anne flinched before turning slowly to find Aramis stood with his sword drawn in shaky hands as he stared unseeingly at her. Swallowing heavily, she held up her hands thus showing him she meant no harm.

"Aramis, it's okay. I am your queen. I am not going to hurt you. Please, put down your sword. We are in the place of God," she told him gently, though she forced a slight firmness to her tone in a hope he would hear the order and his soldier's mind would obey instinctively. To her relief, he put his sword away as confusion flashed in his eyes.

"I…I am sorry. Forgive me…" he trailed off, dropping his gaze to the floor. Anne watched him sadly, wondering if he even knew his queen was stood in front of him. She guessed he had been here most the night. Her thoughts were interrupted as Aramis suddenly wavered on the spot. Anne closed the gap between them just in time to steady the musketeer.

"Why don't we go for a walk, Aramis? Get some fresh air?" she suggested, gently moving a few curls out the way so she could study him closer. His brown eyes once so full of life were now dull and bloodshot. Dark shadows lay underneath them that made his face look even paler. Without meeting her eyes, he nodded slowly, allowing Anne to lead him out the chapel and away from his peace.

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><p>Once in the palace grounds, Anne led them to a secluded area away from prying eyes, not wanting anyone to upset Aramis anymore. During their short walk, he had not spoken. Anne had tried many times to get the musketeer to open up but Aramis remained silent, his eyes fixed to the floor.<p>

"Here. This is one of my favourite places to come, away from everyone. No one know it exists. Well Marie did and now you," Anne told him, pushing him gently down on to a bench. At the mention of his wife's name, Aramis brought brown eyes up to lock with the blue of Anne's.

"You come here a lot?" he asked quietly. Anne nodded, smiling at him. "Often when I need to get away from the chores of palace life, when I need some peace," she replied. He nodded, dropping his gaze once more. "It is pretty here," he muttered. Anne watched him sadly, reaching out to place a hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at her once more. She forced back tears on seeing the vulnerable, lost look held in sad orbs.

"My darling Aramis, I wish with every piece of my heart that I could take your suffering from you," she whispered, feeling him place his own hand over her slight one as he gazed at her with such intensity it drew her breath away. "Thomas will come back to you. I promise he won't…" But she was stopped by the sudden pressure of gentle lips on her own. Her surprise quickly fading, she relaxed into the kiss, a kiss no one had ever given her before. Her body tingled as hands moved carefully down it. Anne knew she should stop this, knew the man kissing her was sick and knew not what he was doing, but Aramis was gentle and tender and she envied Marie so much to know that his heart belonged only to her, and that she, the Queen of France, would never feel a love that this man, with her now, held for his beloved angel.

She was brought from her thoughts by the pressure she was coming to enjoy suddenly moving from her. Her eyes flew open to see Aramis cowering at the edge of the bench, brown eyes wide with panic.

"Your majesty…I oh God I thought you were…you are not my wife," he stuttered, hands combing frantically through his curls. Anne moved towards him but Aramis shot up, backing away from her. "Aramis, please. It's okay…" But she was stopped "Forgive me, your majesty. I shouldn't…I will be hung for this…I will go to hell…I won't ever see Marie again…I…I…no..." he cried, stumbling in his haste to get away. "Aramis, please! You will not go to hell for this. Calm down please… Calm down," she begged him, reaching to try and halt his flight. He shrugged her off hard, shaking his head. "Don't touch me…I will go to hell. I will be hung oh god what have I done…" he sobbed, turning and bolting. Anne followed him quickly, sending a passing Musketeer to bring Porthos and Athos to the palace.

"Oh god, Anne. What have you done?" she muttered to herself as she followed the distraught musketeer to his wife's grave, where he dropped down in front of it begging for her forgiveness "What have you done?"


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N as I kept you all waiting another chapter...I will get cracking I promise as get another up middle of next week. Thank you for sticking with it even with big waits between updates! Love you all!**_

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><p>Chapter 10<p>

Anne didn't know how long she had stood watching the man in front of her but by the time the two musketeers reached her Aramis had fallen silent again, his exhausted body hunched over, knees close to his chest as he stared unseeingly at the grave in front of him. Porthos fell next to him, placing an arm around the smaller man's shoulder, whispering words Anne could not hear.

"Here you are…you have had us worried, my friend," Porthos greeted, kneeling down next him as he took his cloak off and wrapped it around Aramis. Porthos felt him tremble under his touch, causing him to frown and dip his head so he could see the man's face. Suddenly, distressed brown eyes flew up to meet his, causing a surge of panic to race through Porthos. "Aramis? What's wrong mate?" he asked gently "I am going to be hung…and I am going to hell," Aramis whispered, his voice shaking with pure fear. "Hell? Hung? What…no Aramis you are not…why would you think this? Where has this come from?" Porthos questioned, his worry for his friends sudden dip in his depression increasing by the second. "I kissed the Queen," he breathed, hands flew up clenching in fists in Porthos' shirt. "I won't be with Marie…I will never lay with my angel again!" he sobbed, falling against Porthos, who quickly wrapped strong arms around his brother, looking up at where Athos and Anne were watching.

"Athos, we have to get him out of here," Porthos said, rubbing a hand up and down Aramis' back in a desperate attempt to soothe the sobbing man in his arms. "He is exhausted…and seemingly pretty deluded. He needs to sleep," he added, hearing the words 'hung' and 'hell' being muttered over and over. Athos nodded, moving to them both and helping Porthos to pull Aramis to his feet.

"Take him back to the garrison as it is closer. Take him to your quarters and I will meet you there," Athos ordered him. Porthos merely nodded before carefully leading Aramis away, taking almost all the weight of the broken man as they made their way back to the garrison. Once sure they were out of earshot, Athos turned to face his Queen, the distraught look on her face filling him with unease.

"Your majesty…please. I have to know what happened. Why is Aramis convinced he will hang?" Athos asked gently. Anne did not answer at first. Eventually, she took a deep breath before answering quietly. "He kissed me Athos," She replied, looking at him and noting the look on his face, shaking her head to silence him she continued. "I should have stopped him I know…but I was selfish…I have never been kissed like that before. To feel someone be so gentle and tender…and loving. So I returned it…" She trailed off, dropping her gaze. Athos stayed silent sensing she hadn't finished. "He finally realised what he had done. The fear in his eyes….he thought…he thought I was…" She shook her head not being able to finish.

"He thought you were Marie?" Athos finished for her. Anne nodded, feeling tears falling. Wiping them away, she looked up at the musketeer in front of her. "I found him asleep in the chapel. He had been there the night. I took him to a place only Marie knew of to give him some air," she explained. Athos just nodded not knowing what to say. "I am so sorry Athos. My selfish needs have destroyed him…I never meant to cause him more pain," Anne apologised. Athos placed a gentle hand to her arm. "Your majesty, Aramis is sick. It is illness that will never leave. Everyday since Marie passed, we have had to learn to cope, to help him through each day. Now with Thomas gone…" He stopped, taking in a shaky breath "Do not blame yourself for what has happened today your majesty," he soothed. She nodded, placing a hand over his. "Go to him, Athos. Look after him. Soothe his pain as best you can," she told him. Athos nodded, removing his hand from hers before dipping into a bow then bringing himself to his full height placing his hat back on his head. "Until next time, your majesty." Then he was gone, leaving Anne to drop down next to her friend's grave, she herself seeking forgiveness for what had just happened

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><p>Athos reached Porthos' quarters just as the physician was leaving. He tilted his head to young man as he passed him before stepping into the room and seeing Porthos sat on the edge of his bed, eyes fixed sadly on his friend. Moving closer, Athos saw that his brother seemed to be in a peaceful sleep though for how long, he wasn't sure.<p>

"How is he? Should I be more worried then I already am after seeing the physician leave?" Athos queried, moving to the table and placing his hat on it then leaning against it. Porthos sighed deeply as he shook his head, his eyes never leaving the sleeping man. "I just wanted to have him checked over. He was so exhausted. I just about managed to keep him with us long enough for the physician to see to him. For once this is a natural sleep," Porthos explained. Athos just nodded, knowing his friend was thinking the same: the musketeer would not be asleep for long.

"What happened Athos?" Porthos' voice made him look to see the big man finally staring at him, his eyes holding the same tired look that matched Athos' own. Athos sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What he said was true. He kissed the Queen. But only because he saw my sister and not the Queen of France," Athos replied, watching as a flash of anger crossed Porthos's face, turning his attention back to their friend.

"How do we make this stop, Athos? There must be something we can do for him?! Anything! Aramis doesn't deserve this…he can't cope with this any more. How do we get our friend back?" Porthos cried in frustration. Athos shook his head sadly. "We can't…we never will. This is Aramis, Porthos. This is our friend, our brother. All we can do is help him as best we can to get through each day," he answered. Porthos nodded, not hiding his pain. "Even when Thomas comes home though…his mind…it is getting weaker…he will never be well again," Porthos muttered sadly. Athos walked over and placed a gentle hand to his shoulder before squeezing it. "No he won't," he admitted quietly "All we can do is give him the best life we can." Porthos just nodded in answer. A cough at the door caused them both to turn, where they saw their Captain and, to their relief, Marcus stood watching.

"Captain," Athos greeted him. Treville smiled lightly at the man before glancing over at the bed. "Is he not having a good day?" Treville asked quietly. Porthos shook his head. "The Queen found him asleep in the royal chapel. He had been there the night. We were called and found him at Marie's grave exhausted and deluded. We brought him back here to get checked over and rest," Porthos explained, choosing not to mention the kiss with the Queen as the less who knew about it the better, for Aramis' sake. Treville nodded. "I need to speak with you both," he said, wondering if they would come to his office. Athos answered his question.

"You will have to talk with us here. Aramis is in a natural sleep which means he won't sleep long. With how distressed his is today, I don't wish him to be on his own when he wakes. He won't wake well," Athos explained. Treville nodded again, beckoning Marcus further into the room. "Tell them what you told me, son," Treville said. Marcus smiled sadly at two of the men he looked up to.

"I know where they are and they plan on staying there for another two days. We should leave today," he told them both. Athos glanced at Porthos, seeing uncertainty in his eyes. He knew he was reluctant to leave Aramis but they had agreed that when it was time to leave, Aramis would be housed at the Garrison 'til their return, a musketeer with him at all times. That being said, Athos knew the turn on his mental health that day was going to make it hard for anyone but those who knew him best to soothe him and keep him calm. Athos was about to answer when a quiet whimper broke through the silence, causing the two friends to ignore their captain and the young musketeer and turn their attention onto their brother.

"Aramis?" Athos called to him gently, moving to the other side of the bed opposite Porthos, both of them placing a hand to Aramis' shoulders ready to hold him down. "It's okay, my friend. You're safe. Come on. Come back to us," Athos soothed him, watching as confused brown eyes opened flicking between Porthos and Athos. "Easy buddy. You are okay. It's just us, the captain and Marcus here," Porthos assured him, relieved to see the fear leave Aramis as he relaxed into their grip, his mind slowly pulling him back to reality. With the help of his friends, he moved his tired body into a sitting position before turning his eyes on the two men in the door way.

"Have you found my son?" he asked quietly. "We know where they are Aramis. We are leaving today to go to them," Marcus explained. Aramis nodded, fixing his gaze onto Treville. "I am going too," he told his captain firmly. Treville looked at him in surprise before shaking his head. "No, Aramis. I can't let you. You are not fit for duty," he told the youngster firmly. Frustration flashed in Aramis' eyes as he glared at Treville. "My duty is to my son! I have sworn to protect him! And will I will always be fit in my duty as a father," he retorted. Athos squeezed his friend's shoulder gently.

"Aramis, the captain is right. You aren't well enough to come. It is best you stay here," Athos said gently. Aramis shoved him off, fixing his glare on his brother. The words he spoke next held such venom and resentment that it pained Athos to hear.

"No! Not this time! Last time you stopped me, my wife died! I could have saved her Athos! If you hadn't have held me back, I would have put a bullet through Lucas instead of him putting one through Marie!" Aramis spat, shocking the men in the room to silence. Athos tore his eyes away from the angry ones belonging to his friend, knowing Aramis was right. It was a truth that had plagued him since the day his sister had been taken from them. It just seemed more real hearing it from the mouth of the one person who had suffered more than him.

"Aramis!" Porthos warned, his tone telling his friend he was not in the mood for a fight. But Aramis ignored the warning as he pulled himself out of bed, moving so he could see all four men, his slight frame trembling at the sudden effort.

"I was stopped from saving my wife! Instead I was made to hold her in my arms as she died! I/will/not let you stop me from saving my son! MY SON! No one else's! He is my little boy and he is all I have left in the world to live for. The only reason you all have me stood here is because of Thomas!" Aramis shouted, his voice shaking with the emotions pulsing through his body. "Aramis please…" Treville tried again but he was silenced with just one look from the musketeer as he spoke his order resolutely.

"You will give me back my weapons, and Fleur-de-lis and you will let me ride with you so that I can get my son back!"


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N okay I am going to stop promising updates bad just post when I can! Work is mental right now so I shall post as and when I can catch up on my writing. Thank you for sticking this out with me. You words and support keep me going. Enjoy!**_

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><p>Chapter 11<p>

Porthos stood watching the lone figure in front of him as he sat silently against a tree running a cloth over his treasured pistol, the one his wife had given him as a wedding gift. Sighing deeply he grabbed some bread and wine, walking over to his friend, dropping down next to him. "Mind if I join you?" Porthos asked. Aramis shook his head but didn't relent in his task. Porthos placed the wine and food down before resting a firm but soothing hand over the marksman's own halting his work. "It's spotless Aramis there isn't a speck of dirt on it." He told him gently, carefully removing the pistol from his grasps replacing it with the bread. "Eat my friend. You need your strength." He added. Aramis didn't say a word instead nibbled reluctantly on the food given to him. Porthos watched sadly wishing he could get inside the man's mind.

After riding hard that day they had arrived at the old barn that held the hostages. Slipping into the cover of the trees they had agreed to watch the night and then head down the following morning. Aramis had taken himself the closest he could get to the edge of their cover. Treville and Athos had stayed back allowing Porthos to approach the young musketeer. The worry held by the three men for him increasing as the minutes went by, all regretting letting him come.

Now sat close to Aramis, Porthos could see fear and worry gracing his features, while sorrowful brown eyes were fixed longing on the building that held his little boy. So close yet so far to his father. A sigh escaping from his friend's lips brought Porthos out of his musings. He smiled lightly at his friend as Aramis glanced him before returning his gaze ahead. "You need to stop worrying about me Porthos. You all do. It will just bring unnecessary stress on yourselves." Aramis muttered, putting the piece of barely touched bread down and taking his pistol back in his hands beginning the rhythmic cleaning once again. Porthos sighed sadly but made no attempt to stop his friend.

"I can't stop worrying about you Aramis. I just wish you would let us help you." Porthos replied. At his words Aramis stopped his work bringing his gaze up to lock with Porthos' own. Porthos stayed silent knowing eventually his friend would speak what was on his mind. Finally Aramis flashed him a forlorn smile, before holding up his pistol moving it so it caught the light of the setting sun.

"You know the amount of times I have held this in my hands and been so tempted to pull the trigger…to end everything…" Aramis paused, still Porthos said nothing his own heart clenching painfully at his brother's admission. Aramis shook his head, looking Porthos straight in the eye with that intense stare that rendered anyone who caught it speechless. "You save my life everyday. You, Thomas, Athos, D'Artagnan, Constance and Emilie. You all keep me alive." Aramis stopped again returning his gaze back to the barn in front of them. Porthos was grateful as he wiped the threatening tears watching his friend's shoulders drop dejectedly. "I can't be helped Porthos. I have an illness, a depression that will never go, you have to stop trying to cure me. Instead please just keep doing what you are doing. Please, just help me stay alive." Aramis begged him, looking at him once more this time Porthos saw tears in the musketeer's eyes. Not trusting his voice he simply nodded, pulling Aramis close to him.

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><p>D'Artagnan sighed deeply as he sat slumped outside the building on his 'watch' the evening was drawing in and he wondered if any help was coming. They were to move the following day, and although he didn't want to doubt his brothers there was a feeling of worry setting in that they may just be too late.<p>

A rustle to his right brought him to his senses. Pistol at the ready he slowly moved towards the sound, sighing in relief when the figure of Marcus emerged from behind a tree. D'Artagnan glanced round before joining him in the cover.

"What news?" D'Artagnan questioned. Marcus smiled slightly leaning against the tree. "The captain along with a handful of us are positioned just ahead on the hill in the trees" Marcus said pointing to where he meant. D'Artagnan allowed himself to relax a moment glad his doubts had been dashed. "Porthos and Athos are here too?" He checked. Marcus nodded. "Aramis also." On seeing the look of surprise on his friend's face he smiled sadly. "He was adamant he would come. We had no choice. He is okay…but I am not sure he is fit for duty." Marcus explained admitting his worries. D'Artagnan sighed running a hand over his tired face thinking of Thomas and the state the four year old was in. "No matter what happens Aramis can not see Thomas until we are safely out of here. Understood?" D'Artagnan ordered. Marcus nodded choosing not to question what had been asked.

"Okay I will get the women and children out tonight. If you wait here I will send Emilie out with the women and Constance with the children. I shall stay back till it's clear." D'Artagnan explained. Marcus nodded placing a small tube in D'Artagnan's hand. "It's a sedative…one of Aramis' concoctions so you know it's going to be strong. Put it in their drinks knock them out will make the escape easier." Marcus told him. D'Artagnan smiled he himself knowing just how strong the marksman's home medication could be. "Thank you. Now go rely this to the others. I will see you later my friend." D'Artagnan muttered, tilting his head to Marcus before stepping back out the cover and quickly back to his post. He froze upon seeing Michal stood with an unconscious Thomas in his arms he went to draw but stopped as two pistols were pointed straight at him. "Who are you boy?" Michal demanded, a dagger pressed close to Thomas' heart. "And don't lie to me otherwise your precious lad will die." He warned pushing the blade flush to the boy's skin. D'Artagnan's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"My name is D'Aratgnan I am of the kings musketeers" he answered before he was plunged into darkness.


	12. Chapter 12

**_A/N finally a Monday update! Good news is I gave two more chapters written already and half way through a third so have caught up with myself. Am away this weekend so will post another update Friday before I go! Thank you all for sticking with it...enjoy and let me know what you think._**

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><p>Chapter 12<p>

"Something is wrong," Aramis muttered as he paced amongst the group while they waited, like instructed, for the women and children to come to them. It was dark now and they had been positioned for some time but so far nothing had happened. Porthos glanced at Athos, who was watching his brother as he walked up and down the same spot muttering to himself, and he knew Athos was thinking the same thing. They needed to go in so they could find out what was going on but to do that with Aramis so on edge was a risk they weren't prepared to take.

"Right, that's it! Marcus, Athos and Porthos, you head in and find out what is happening. The rest of us will keep watch on the outside, ready if you need help," Treville finally broke the silence. Aramis froze, turning slowly to face the captain. "I am not staying here while they go and find /my/ son," he spat, dark eyes narrowed angrily. Porthos shook his head at the Captain before moving to his friend, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder. "Aramis, you are too personal to this…it is best you wait out here. We will bring Thomas straight to you. You have my word," he promised, holding the marksman's gaze steadily. Aramis didn't answer, instead shrugging him off and resuming his pacing. Porthos sighed deeply before turning back to the two musketeers and following them towards the building.

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><p>D'Artagnan groaned as he opened his eyes carefully, blinking a few times as they adjusted to the light. He lifted his hand up, wincing as it brushed against a wound on the side of his head, the sticky feel of blood evident. Looking around the room he was in, he noted it smaller and full of barrels. He went to move to investigate them more when he caught the silhouette of a small figure lay just right to him. "Thomas," he breathed. Carefully scooting across to the boy, he reached out to him. Feeling a pulse, he sighed with relief. Scooping the 4year old up, he moved back to his position before bringing the lad closer to him. "Hang in there, my little soldier. I will find us away out of here or hopefully your papa will be coming any time now," he muttered, grateful when he felt the young boy respond to his comfort and although his eyes stayed shut, he moved closer to D'Artagnan, seeking his warmth.<p>

* * *

><p>The three musketeers entered the building quietly. Athos held up his hand to stop the other two upon seeing a man sat snoozing outside a door. He nodded to Porthos who moved forward and had the man unconscious before he had a chance to know what hit him. Opening the door, Athos was greeted by faces of scared women. A quick glance to his relief told them none seemed harmed. His eyes locked straight away with those of his love and before he knew it, she had hurtled into his arms like a bullet. He held her tightly, closing his eyes at her touch, pleased to have her alive. Pulling away, he swept trained eyes over her. "Are you hurt?" he asked Emilie. She shook her head. "No. Thank god none of us are," she answered. Athos nodded before turning to Constance. "Constance, take the women and lead them to the trees. Don't stop till you get there. Treville is waiting. We three and Emilie will find the children. Go!" he ordered, watching as the women left quietly before they continued to where the children were. Once again, Porthos easily took out the guard and Athos was surprised as to how simple this was. Where was their leader? And was he really that stupid to leave incapable guards on duty? The other thought that plagued his mind was that they were yet to meet D'Artagnan. He just hoped the young Musketeer was behind this door. Taking a deep breath, he opened it but the sight that greeted him made him feel sick and it was one that would leave a scar on his memory till his dying day.<p>

The room smelt like a toilet chamber. The kids were bound together, clothes more tattered than the ones on women they had found. On closer inspection, some had wounds where they had been beaten. Rushing to them, the three musketeers quickly undid the bonds, soothing the scared children as they did so. Athos' heart sank when he realised neither Thomas or D'Artagnan were in the room. A light tug on his arm made him turn round where he saw a lad of about 10 looking up at him.

"Excuse me, Mr Musketeer. I promised your friend I would look after Thomas but they came for him and just took him. They hit him to make him go quiet. I tried to stop them but I couldn't. I am sorry," the young lad told him quietly. Athos knelt down in front of him. "I am Athos. What is your name?" he asked him gently. "My name is Jerome, Monsieur," the youngster replied. Athos smiled, squeezing his shoulder gently. "D'Artagnan must have thought you very brave to have asked you to look after Thomas. It is not your fault what has happened. Now you see that lady over there and the musketeer next to her?" Athos said, pointing to where Marcus and Emilie stood with the rest of the children. "They are going to take you from here to where your mother is waiting for you okay? We will find Thomas and D'Artagnan. Don't you worry," Athos assured him, squeezing his shoulder again before taking Jerome's hand and leading him over to the pair. "Get the children out of here. We are going to find Thomas and D'Artagnan," he told Emilie, glancing Marcus who nodded in understanding. "Stay safe," Emilie muttered, planting a kiss on his cheek. Athos went to answer when a gunshot rang out, followed by a cry of pain. "Go!" Athos demanded, as he followed Porthos who was already heading towards the sound.

* * *

><p>Aramis had grown bored of waiting and with the women arriving, it brought a welcome distraction to escape the eyes of the Captain and take the back entrance into the building. Now, pistol in hand, he silently skirted the walls looking for a door in. To his relief, he found it. Letting himself in, he paused, blinking to allow his eyes to adjust to the slight change in light before he crept carefully through the corridor. He paused as he saw a man stood outside a door. Eyes trained, he slid up behind him, pulling out his dagger and easily slitting his throat before opening the door to a room full of barrels. Not caring to look what was in them, his eyes focused straight away on the man sat in front of him who was cradling a tiny figure. His heart skipped momentarily before terrified blue eyes turned to him, the look matching those of D'Artagnan. "Aramis behind you…" But he was silenced as, at the same time Aramis went to draw, Thomas was snatched from D'Artagnan's arms and held once again in Michal's own, this time a gun pointed at the four year olds head.<p>

"Drop your weapon, musketeer, or your boy dies," Michal threatened, his voice assuring him he was serious. Aramis looked over at D'Artagnan who, himself, was being held. The young musketeer nodded, watching sadly as a look of defeat like he has never seen crossed the brown eyes of his friend. He watched as Aramis' shoulders slumped in defeat while his gun clattered to the ground. Arms grabbed the marksman to restrain him, though D'Artagnan was sure it hadn't been needed.

"Good choice. Now I know that we have lost the others…but these two. A strong musketeer and a handsome young boy will bring us as much as all those pathetic whelps would have together. But just to make sure you don't follow…." Michal stopped, a sadistic grin flashing on his face, as he turned the loaded gun and shot straight at Aramis' leg, catching him just below the knee. The scream of pain rang through D'Artagnan like a knife as he watched his friend buckle. "Finish him," Michal spat, as the man holding Aramis pulled out a pistol and smacked the marksman hard round the head, dropping the limp body with a thud as he hit the ground. Michael turned to nod to the other man to drag D'Artagnan out but the young man fought. The anger at seeing his brother be shot at pulsed through him as he tried in vain to fight off the bigger man holding him. Michal grabbed the musketeer with his spare hand. "I suggest you stop. Your mate is as good as dead. Now shut up and move otherwise the boy dies," he barked, causing D'Artagnan to cease his fighting. The last thing he saw before he was dragged from the room was Aramis' crumpled form.

"Athos! In here!" Porthos shouted, falling by the side of their friend. "We need to get him out of here," he said, shaking his head. "I can't carry him. I need your help!" Athos nodded as they carefully pulled the injured musketeer up, dragging him out the building. Once they had retreated a little away, they were met with Treville and Marcus, who took the unconscious man.

"We are going back for D'Artagnan and Thomas. I can't leave them," Athos told them, turning back to the building just as an explosion shattered the world around them, the whole building suddenly engulfed in flames.

The barrels had been gunpowder and the remaining men in the building would not have survived their wrath….


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Athos went to run to the building but Porthos stopped him, strong arms supporting him as they both collapsed to the floor. "Get off me, Porthos. Please!" Athos begged him, though his body refused to fight his friend's forceful grip. "They are gone, Athos. No one would have survived that. They are gone," Porthos muttered. Athos slumped against him, both watching the building as another explosion ran through it. He knew Porthos was right but he didn't want to accept it.

"Come on. We need get back to Aramis. Our place is by his side, my friend. God only knows what he will be like when he wakes," Porthos said sadly, helping Athos to his feet before the two headed back to the camp. Emilie rushed to them as they entered, pulling Athos close and muttering soothing words as Porthos sank next to Constance, who was cradling the still form of Aramis in her arms, gently tending to his head wound while Treville did the best he could to the musket wound on the man's leg.

"Constance, I am so sorry," Porthos whispered. She shook her head, bringing bloodshot eyes up to meet his own sorrowful ones. "Don't, Porthos. There was nothing you could do. D'Artagnan… he kept us alive, he looked after the children. He did you all proud," she answered before she stopped, taking a shaky breath as she planted a gentle kiss on Aramis' wound. "We must stay strong for Aramis. I will grieve, but Aramis….he won't…this is going to kill him. His mind will not cope with this. I almost pray he doesn't wake," she sobbed, dropping her head to touch with the marksman's own as silent tears fell. Porthos placed a soothing hand to her back and rubbing it gently, trying to offer her what little comfort he could.

"Athos," Treville approached him, causing the shocked musketeer to pull away from Emilie. "I am so sorry about D'Artagnan and Thomas but we need to move from here. Aramis needs medical attention fast. His leg wound is bad and the ball is still in there. I fear for his head wound also," he explained and Athos nodded. The dawn was creeping its way up on them and they knew now was the time to move. "Let's go then," was all Athos could reply with, his heart too heavy with words as he headed to where Porthos and Constance were still sat with his fallen brother.

* * *

><p>Athos stood silently on the balcony looking out over the garrison. He closed his eyes briefly, the still form of his brother lying pale against the sheets of Porthos' bed burned in his mind. They had taken him to the bigger man's room to care for him privately, not knowing how he would be should he ever come back to them. Now though, the older musketeer needed space, a moment to gather his thoughts while Aramis was in the hands of the physician.<p>

"There you are." A soft voice made him open his eyes and turn to face Constance, who smiled softly at him. She walked towards him then came to a stop at his side. "I have been looking for you with news of Aramis' condition," she told him. Athos nodded. "Has he woken yet?" he asked. She shook her head sadly, looking out over the courtyard. "No, he has not. He has shown no sign of doing so either, though they removed the musket ball successfully and the physician is confident that he will recover fully and there shouldn't be any lasting damage to his knee." She fell silent, knowing Athos was thinking the same in that it wasn't the physical wounds that were the problem. It was the mental state Aramis would be in should he regain his senses and learn the truth of the fate of his boy.

Athos sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "Constance, I am so sorry for D'Artagnan. He was a good soldier, a good friend…a good brother. I feel I have let him down." He paused, drawing in a deep breath as he tried to take a hold of his emotions. Constance placed her hand on his arm, gently squeezing it. "Athos, please do not blame yourself. You would never have got to them in time," she whispered. Athos stayed silent and Constance knew the main source of his guilt was the loss of Thomas. Finally, Athos locked piercing blue eyes with Constance's own.

"God Constance…what the hell am I going to tell Aramis?" he muttered, dropping to the floor, his knees not able to support him. Constance fell next to him, hugging him close. "What am I meant to tell my brother? Thomas was all Aramis had left to live for. I promised him I would bring his son back to him. I have failed him again," Athos sobbed, not being able to control his grief any longer.

The pair stayed like that for some time, crying over lost friends before Emilie came to take Constance home, leaving Athos to head to the room his brother was in in order to take up the vigil with Porthos, both knowing it would be them that would have to tell Aramis the truth.

* * *

><p>"You are sure they are all back Captain?" Louis checked, looking down at Treville as he stood to attention in the throne room, the latter having brought the news to the king straight away. Treville nodded. "They are, your majesty. Though I regret to inform you that the men that did this are no longer alive. My musketeers took them out and then the explosion killed any left…" He stopped before taking a deep breath. "The explosion also took one of my men with it. D'Artagnan was still trapped inside when the building went up. A boy was in there with him also. He was the son of Aramis. Unfortunately we have lost two good soldiers of our regiment today," Treville explained. "But you said only one musketeer died, Captain? Which of course I am sorry to hear," Louis pointed out, confused as to why the Captain was grieving for two. It was Anne who answered the question.<p>

"It is because the second is Aramis, your majesty. The grief over the loss of his son will be too much for him to deal with. He will not be with us for much longer," she replied quietly, her glistening blue eyes fixed sadly on Treville, who just nodded in answer. Louis, noting his wife's distress, squeezed her hand gently.

"I forget that Aramis was the husband of your dear friend, Marie. My love, forgive me. I am sorry for this loss," he told her in a rare moment of tenderness to his Queen. Anne just looked at him in slight shock before flashing him a forlorn smile. "Thank you, sire," she whispered.

"That is all, Treville. My deepest regret and prayers go to your men," Louis said, dismissing him and allowing Anne to follow the Captain out. Treville turned to the queen, bowing slightly. "Aramis is unconscious still, your majesty. He was shot in the leg and hit round the head. He is not aware of his son's death," Treville explained to her. guessing what her question would be. Anne nodded. "Will he wake?" she asked. Treville sighed deeply. "I can not answer that, your majesty. That is up to Aramis," he replied honestly. Again, she nodded. "Please keep me informed of his condition and tell Emilie and Constance I will visit them when I can. My prayers and love, all I have, go out to them all, Captain. May God keep them," she said quietly before turning and heading to her chambers. Treville watched her leave before making his way back to the garrison to try and piece his regiment back together.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N away all weekend so shall leave this for you hoping to get more written and posted before I vanish to New York end of next week. Thanks for all your amazing support! This was a tough chapter to write. Enjoy comments always welcome**

* * *

><p>Chapter 14<p>

It was early the following morning when Aramis finally came to. It wasn't an easy awakening. The marksman suffered with the harsh light causing pain to shoot through his head and confused mind. He went to reach up to feel his head for a wound but his hand was stopped by a strong yet gentle one.

"Easy brother. You took a nasty blow to the head," Porthos' voice soothed him gently, just as the room fell into darkness when Athos pulled the curtains shut blocking out the sun and then lit a candle. Aramis sighed deeply, easing himself back against his pillows as a sharp pain from his knee caused by a slight movement, made him cry out. Porthos winced, glancing at Athos who stayed standing at the end of the bed. "Aramis, you must lay still. You were shot in the knee…They made sure you wouldn't follow," Athos told him. The confusion held in bright brown orbs confirmed Athos' suspicions that Aramis had no idea what had happened. Porthos shifted slightly, taking hold of the injured musketeer's hand.

"Aramis…do you remember anything that happened?" Porthos asked him gently. Aramis stayed silent for a few moments before shaking his head slowly. "Not much. I remember going into a building…and I found Thomas and D'Artagnan…then it went blank…" He trailed off, looking between his two friends. "Thomas is safe right? He was okay when I saw him," Aramis said, his voice begging them to tell him it was okay. Porthos squeezed his hand gently while Athos took a deep breath. "Aramis…look at me brother," he called to the marksman, forcing himself to hold the big brown eyes with his own. "There was an explosion and the building went up. We couldn't get back to Thomas and D'Artagnan quick enough…I am so sorry Aramis…they are both dead," Athos whispered, feeling his heart shatter as devastation like he had never seen crossed over the man's face.

"My little is boy is dead?" Aramis breathed, shaking his head. "No, you are lying. You are lying! Why would you say this? Why?!" he cried, pulling his hand from Porthos' grip. "Get out!" he hissed. Athos stepped towards him while Porthos didn't move. "I SAID GET OUT! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN QUICKER AND SAVED THEM! GET OUT!" he screamed, picking up the jug by his bed and throwing it at Athos, forcing the man to duck to avoid it.

"Aramis stop!" Porthos barked, grabbing both his friend's arms and holding them tightly. "Get off me! You let them die you both let them die!" Aramis cried, trying to pull his hands free but Porthos held on tighter. Athos took a step back towards the door, He couldn't do this, couldn't watch his brother completely break down.

"Give me my pistol. I don't want to be here any more. You should have left me to die! Let me die! Give/me/my/gun!" Aramis demanded, fighting harder against the bigger musketeer. Athos stepped out the door. "Athos don't!" Porthos warned him as he continued to fight the marksman in his arms. Aramis' cries had now turned to ones of distress for his son and wife mixed with the begging for them to shoot him and take his life.

"I can't Porthos. I am sorry. I can't do this" Athos muttered. "You think I can? Athos please. I need your help here. Aramis needs our help. Please don't turn your back on him," Porthos begged but Athos shook his head, not being able to listen to his brother beg for death any more. "I am sorry Aramis," was all he could say before he turned and left, ignoring Porthos shouting after him and the soul shattering cries of the broken man that Porthos held in his arms.

* * *

><p>Porthos didn't know how long he had sat cradling his friend, his brother in his arms. Aramis had gone through every emotion before fatigue had taken hold and left him sobbing as he clung weakly to Porthos' shirt that was now soaked from tears. Porthos held the man the whole time, rocking him gently and muttering words of comfort in a hope to soothe Aramis even though he knew those words weren't heard. He, himself, had given up fighting his own tears, letting them fall to merge with those of the musketeer slumped in his embrace.<p>

"Hush now, Aramis. Try and calm down for me, brother," Porthos whispered to him, resting his head upon Aramis' own and still rocking him gently trying to ease his tears. He could feel the marksman get weaker, his body shaking with exhaustion. A knock at the door made him look up where he saw Treville enter with the physician behind him. As Porthos caught the Captain's eye and the sorrowful look that graced his features, he shook his head sadly answering Treville's silent question. Treville didn't say anything, instead walking to the bed and dropping down at the other side of Aramis. Porthos watched as the normally impassive man struggled to keep a hold on the raw emotion that had clearly gripped him upon seeing the state the young man in front of him was in.

"Aramis?" Treville called to him gently, placing a hand on the man's knee in a hope to gauge some reaction from him. When he received nothing, Treville sighed deeply before glancing the man stood behind him and nodding for him to step forward.

"Aramis, I have brought the physician. He needs to check your injuries for me, son," he paused, looking at Porthos sadly. "And to give you something for the pain," he added. Standing up, he let the man tend to Aramis. Porthos kept hold of him in case Aramis was to be a problem. Instead, Aramis didn't move and made no inclination he was even aware of the man as he gently checked the musketeer over. Finally, he stepped back, looking at the two men.

"His head wound is healing and his knee will also heal as long as he rests it," he paused, before continuing in a voice full of regret. "I can give you endless amount of sedative and may I make a suggestion that we keep Aramis on the drug for now…?" He was stopped by Porthos shaking his head. "No, I am not having him doped constantly. That is not fair!" he snapped, watching as the physician prepared a drink for Aramis before bringing it to the young musketeer to force the man to drink it. What happened next happened so quickly and unexpectedly that the 3 men present in the room had no hope of stopping it.

Aramis suddenly seemed to snap from his trance as if possessed. Growling like a wild animal, he flung his hand out, knocking the cup of water and the physician flying before stumbling from his bed and limping to a wall, pistol drawn and eyes watching them with a dangerous look held in them.

"Why are you trying to poison me?! I know! I hear what you say!" he hissed.

No one dared move for a few seconds, scared if they did that the trigger would be pulled. Finally, Porthos moved slowly towards him, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. "Aramis, no one is trying to poison you. The physician was wanting to give you something for the pain. That is all," he told him quietly. Aramis held Porthos' gaze with a confused one of his own. "Nothing can stop the pain," he muttered. Porthos stopped, not sure what to say to that. "At least let us try and help you, Aramis. Come on. Put the gun down," Porthos pleaded. By now he was stood in front of his friend and he was aware of Treville moving round to Aramis' other side while the physician watched silently, a fresh cup of the herbs held in his hands.

Aramis surveyed Porthos, pushing himself closer to the wall as the bigger man advanced, but lowering the pistol as asked. He went to say something when a flash of light flared behind his eyes bringing with it a pain he had never experienced, before he dropped like the dead straight into the arms of his brother.

"Aramis? No Aramis come on…Come on mate!" Porthos called to him as he sank to the floor, the physician by his side in an instant. "What's wrong with him?" Porthos demanded of the man as he checked his pupils. Seeing them fixed and dilated, the physician looked up at the musketeer. "His head wound has caused him to pass out but am I concerned he has damage greater than we think. After watching that episode, I am not sure there is more than what we can see. I would like a second opinion. A second assessment if you will. Gentlemen, I think you need to consider Aramis being committed," he spoke softly, startling at the snarl that escaped Porthos as he scooped the unconscious man up and placed him gently on the bed. "I am not having you lock him up like some wild animal!" he snapped, spinning round to face them though he stopped suddenly, dropping into a bow causing the others to turn to the door seeing the Queen stood in the entrance, her face pale and distressed. It was clear she had seen or at least heard all that had happened.

"Your majesty," Treville greeted her. "You should not be here. Aramis is not well enough for visitors at the moment," he added. Anne shook her head, stepping into the room and her eyes falling on the figure on the bed. She looked to the physician. "Have Jacques, the royal physician sent here. Have him assess Aramis and if he agrees with you and…" She paused, swallowing her tears at the realisation that the musketeer was so sick this was now their only option. She took a shaky breath before she continued. "If he agrees that Aramis' depression is beyond help and having him committed is the kindest thing…then be sure that he is given the best care we have. He deserves no less," she ordered, her voice wavering at the last bit, ignoring the look of devastation on Porthos' face at her words. They had known if Thomas died this would happen but faced with the reality of it was something none of them had prepared for.

"This isn't right," Porthos muttered, running a large hand through the thick curls of his friend. "He isn't mad!" Anne placed a small hand to his shoulder and squeezed it gently, aware of both Treville and the physician leaving. "None of what Aramis has been dealt is fair, Porthos, but I heard all that was said…he is beyond our help now…" She trailed off, not having any more words to say and instead she turned and left the room, giving Porthos his privacy as he watched over his brother, coming to terms with the realisation he could no longer save him from his dangerous mind.


End file.
